"
"I expect you to be generous," she said.
"To you?"
"Well--to me. Yes--if you like to me alone."
"To you alone! And you know everything!" His voice dropped. "You want
your happiness."
She made an impatient movement and he saw her clench the hand that was
lying on the table.
"I want my husband back," she said, sharply.
"Yes. Yes. It's what I was saying. Same thing," he muttered with strange
placidity. She looked at him searchingly. He had a large simplicity that
filled one's vision. She found herself slowly invaded by this masterful
figure. He was not mediocre. Whatever he might have been he was not
mediocre. The glamour of a lawless life stretched over him like the sky
over the sea down on all sides to an unbroken horizon. Within, he moved
very lonely, dangerous and romantic. There was in him crime, sacrifice,
tenderness, devotion, and the madness of a fixed idea. She thought with
wonder that of all the men in the world he was indeed the one she knew
the best and yet she could not foresee the speech or the act of the next
minute. She said distinctly:
"You've given me your confidence. Now I want you to give me the life of
these two men. The life of two men whom you do not know, whom to-morrow
you will forget. It can be done. It must be done. You cannot refuse them
to me.
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